


Chillin' with Sylveon

by deerest_love



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerest_love/pseuds/deerest_love
Summary: Who wouldn't want to cuddle with sylveon? It's so cute.





	Chillin' with Sylveon

I felt something wet and rough stroke my cheek. I opened my eyes. Rays of marigold light peeked out from far behind the vast clouds above, and I saw a flash of pastel pink out of the corner of my eye--an ear, I realized.

"Ah, sorry sylveon. I almost fell asleep there…"

The pokemon stopped licking me, and stepped back to let me sit up. I stretched and looked out over the gentle hills that surrounded us, the wavering grasses and goldenrod. The wind was capricious today; it would blow teasingly lightly for a little while, only to whip up to eye-watering speeds the next moment. A strong gust passed me by, and I noticed sylveon shiver. He nuzzled at the bottom of my coat as though trying to burrow underneath it.

"Oh, you're cold? Here." I unzipped my coat and enveloped sylveon with one arm. He snuggled up to me, and I kissed the crown of his head. His fur felt smooth--almost glossy--under my lips. It was a bit different from the fur on his ears--I reached over to confirm. Right. The ears were more like velvet. A bit more textured.

Sylveon gave a sparrow-like chirp to get my attention. I noticed that he was prodding at my sleeve with his feelers, so I rolled the sleeve up and let him wrap his feelers around my arm. His figure distorted, and became fringed with pastel colors like a soap bubble.

"Oh, you…"

I was overcome with a sense of giddiness, as though today were a holiday and I had only just remembered it. Everything began to feel ticklish--his feeler, the brush of my clothes, the breeze on my neck. A moth landed on my forehead, and instead of brushing it off I just laughed. I can see why sylveon subdue their prey this way; my companion could have bit into my throat right then and I don't think I would have cared.

Sylveon eyed the picnic basket beside us, and I felt him start to head toward it. He often tried to take advantage of me like this; whenever I was under his influence, I felt too peaceful to scold him. However, I had just recently learned how to counter this tactic; I just gently pulled sylveon into my lap and kept my arm around him. He may have loved pastries, but he also rarely turned down my affection. And this way, I didn't feel like I was doing something mean.

I nuzzled sylveon and stroked his fur, and he seemed to resign himself. His purring was high-pitched, almost like a teakettle. I lightly squeezed his paw, which felt so small and delicate despite all the steps it had taken. The pads on the bottom felt smooth like wax.

I said some things to sylveon which I don't exactly remember, but I'm sure they were very flattering and probably a little hyperbolic. We looked out over the hills, and watched patches of sun and shade morph like lichen spreading across a tree. As the wind picked up, I was overcome by a numinous feeling, as though I might be swept up into the sky--that fluffy canyon of clouds. I made sure to keep sylveon sheltered under my jacket. He kept purring away happily, so I assumed he was warm enough for now.

I began to feel sleepy again, and sylveon tugged at my shoulder with one of his feelers, encouraging me to lay down. I did, and he followed suit with his back against my belly. It was the perfect opportunity for me to stroke his chest, where his fur was most luxurious--as soft as pussywillow but as fluffy as cotton. I took in his soothing and faintly zesty scent, like chamomile and lemongrass. My breathing started to slow, synchronizing with my companion's, and before long I began to drift off.


End file.
